


Color Me Criminal

by artform_virtue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Best Friends, Black and White to Color, Domestic Avengers, F/M, God - Freeform, JUST, M/M, Marvel Universe, None - Freeform, Oh My God, Steve and Bucky are robbing the same house, and Clint has no chill, and everyone is drunk, and then they're soulmates, dear god, did I just tag that, guys do not read this, idk - Freeform, it isn't good, it's actually post college tho, just like oh my god, like at all, pls, the Avengers are squad as fuck, they go out for brunch but I call it breakfast and ugh this fic is just a mess, whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4663239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artform_virtue/pseuds/artform_virtue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve sees color for the first time at three A.M. while panty-raiding Howard Stark's mansion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Color Me Criminal

**Author's Note:**

> Gracia. Oh, my god. Okay, first, happy anniversary, I love you very much. Second, I am so sorry. This one shot is just garbage!!!!? The development is like really weird and it's kind of short and I tried my best with the whole soulmate thing, like, I've never written one of these before so idk but, like, idk I'm sorry I hope you like it. OH, MY GOD MY BROTHER IS SINGING IN THE SHOWER AND HE'S HORRIBLE GOD, OKAY, I LOVE YOU.

            Steve didn’t do this whole “robbing houses” thing. At least, not _usually_. But they had just graduated from college, and the weekend that followed was five parts alcohol, two parts adulterated sex, and three parts illegal shenanigans, for a total of ten parts fucking insane.

 

He couldn’t remember a weekend like this, could barely remember the one he was living now. But _robbing a house_? Steve thought that was too far, although he couldn’t exactly say no. Bruce and Tony had quadruple-dog-dared him. He had to.

 

Thankfully, it wasn’t just anyone’s house. It was Tony’s dad’s. Which was good because it meant he wouldn’t get into any real trouble, and bad because Howard Stark was sixteen steps past the line of _fucking terrifying_.

 

The night was dark, the wind hot, and Steve’s object simple: get in, nab a pair of old man boxers, and get out. What happened could not have been anticipated.

 

Steve crossed the broad street, the distance between him and Thor’s Jeep and Tony’s Ferrari growing. Reaching Mr. Stark’s front gates, he entered the passcode Tony had given him. The metal bars began to cross over each other, the gates opening. He slipped through as soon as he could and began sprinting towards the house. Steve felt giddy as he ran: the breeze rushing over his body, his sneakers wetting with dew. He would probably never run like this again now that track season had finished, along with school. Once and for all.

 

The knot of nerves in his stomach was unraveled by the adrenaline and excitement coursing through his body. His brain was slightly numb as none of them had been on the right side of sober since Friday afternoon. First weekend as adults and they had spent it streaking through town and doing body shots off of male strippers.

 

He entered the mansion through the side garage door with Tony’s key. So, really, it was hardly breaking in. Steve crept slowly past the rows of expensive foreign cars, knowing the garage had motion sensor lights. Once inside the house, he began his quest for Mr. Stark’s bedroom.

 

Passing the kitchen, Steve heard a noise: footsteps. He froze where he stood, half expecting to see Mr. Stark round the corner in a robe that would embarrass them both. Instead he was met with quiet—all except for the dishwasher running in the kitchen. He let out a slow breath and continued walking, thinking he’d use the southern stairs to get to the second level and then continue—

 

Steve walked into something. Something that grunted. Something that was _colorful_.

 

Well, all right, that something (someone) wasn’t colorful at all—they were wearing all black—but Steve could see _colors_. They were dull and shadowy at best, since it was both three AM and also very, very dark, but they were colors all the same. He didn’t know their names, but he knew that they were beautiful, and also a little overwhelming. Not as overwhelming as the man standing in front of him, however.

 

His soulmate.

 

“Hi,” Steve whispered. He felt breathless.

 

“Hi,” the man said back.

 

Steve had heard a lot of things about other people’s soulmates, and their experiences finding each other. Some stories were like Peter and Wade’s, who had both seen color since the fifth grade. Others were like his old neighbor, Mr. Wellington, who had died seeing black and white.

 

Steve’s story, apparently, fell in between. It fell on Mr. Stark’s estate, early on a Monday morning, with dark colors filling the world around him and his— _soul mate_? Who was in Mr. Stark’s house at _three AM_? _Dressed in all black_?

 

“Oh, my god,” Steve said.

 

The man looked up from Steve’s biceps. “I know,” he answered.

 

“Oh, my _god_.” He grabbed his soul mate’s hand (which fit perfectly in his, but he’d have to worry about how great it felt later) and began pulling him back the way Steve had come.

 

“Uh, babe—”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“Oh, okay. What do I call you then?”

 

“Steve.”

 

“Steve,” the man repeated. “I’m Bucky.”

 

Steve stopped abruptly. “What the hell kind of a name is Bucky?” he demanded, trying to cover up the way the name made him feel inside (all mushy, and gushy, and god this was horrible).

 

“Well, my real name’s James, but I don’t really—”

 

“Bucky, just shut up.”

 

They were making their way back across the lawn now, Steve marching and Bucky trying to put his arm around Steve’s waist.

 

“That doesn’t look like underwear, Rogers, try again!” Clint called from where he was sitting on the top of Thor’s doorless Jeep.

 

“I can see,” Steve said, “ _colors_.”

 

His friends returned his statement with various reactions. Peter’s was very similar to his own, Thor cried out and raised his bottle before taking a swig, Tony just laughed, and Natasha dropped her beer.

 

***

 

The ride back to Pepper’s place was eventful. Pepper and Clint thought it was best that Steve sit on Bucky’s lap in the front of the Jeep to a) save enough seats for everyone else, b) keep Bucky from escaping (although he kept assuring them he wasn’t going anywhere), and c) help them “get closer.” Steve really hated his friends. Wade was—as always—the drunkest out of all of them, singing loudly along with the radio the entire way, Peter resting his head uselessly on Natasha’s shoulder. Thor, if anything, was encouraging the sing along with his boisterous laughter. Steve longed to be in Tony’s car, though he wasn’t sure if it was any better in there with Pepper, Clint, and Bruce.

 

Bucky kept making attempts at conversation. “How old are you?”

 

“Twenty-three. We just graduated on Friday,” Steve answered shortly. He was still pretty upset that his soul mate was a thief, and had mixed feelings about Bucky’s (muscular) arms around his waist, holding him in place.

 

“I’m twenty-four!”

 

“Cool.”

 

“I think your eyes are beautiful.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“What’s the color called?”

 

“Blue.”

 

“That’s what my friends tell me mine are.”

 

“Cool.”

 

After a while, Bucky figured out that Steve didn’t want to talk to him, so he shut up and settled for holding Steve against his chest. Steve was so comfortable even he couldn’t argue.

 

It turned out that Pepper’s house was green. Or so Tony told him (he wasn’t sure if his friends were being honest with this whole names-of-colors thing; he’d have to Google a chart when he finally got home).

 

“I’m taking Wade to go vomit upstairs,” Peter said upon their entering the house.

 

Pepper didn’t even flinch. “Okay. Use the guest bathroom. And if you end up having sex, use the guest bedroom.”

 

Pepper then said something about going to get refreshments to help sober everyone up, and the rest of them made their way into the sitting room. Steve found himself holding Bucky’s hand, leading him along.

 

Tony immediately made himself at home, flopping down onto his girlfriend’s loveseat. “You chickened out of the dare,” he said to Steve.

 

“The quadruple dog dare,” Clint added.

 

Natasha glared at both of them. “You guys, this is Steve we’re talking about. I think he has bigger worries.”

 

“Exactly! —Wait what is that supposed to mean?” Steve demanded. Natasha put her hands up and kept her mouth shut.

 

“So,” Bruce interjected, “your soulmate was robbing Tony’s dad’s house.”

 

“Well, so was Steve,” Bucky exclaimed.

 

Steve turned to face him, arms crossed over his chest. “I was not robbing Howard Stark. Unlike some of us here, I don’t have a death wish. I was there to borrow a pair of his boxers.”

 

“Panty raid,” Thor confirmed.

 

“Oh.” Bucky looked troubled.

 

“ _You_ on the other hand.” Steve poked a finger into Bucky’s chest. “You were burglarizing.”

 

“Stevo, what’s the big deal?” Tony asked from where he was lounging.

 

Steve looked toward his friend, absolutely incredulous. “He was stealing from your father!”

 

“So?” Tony said. “I steal from my father all the time.”

 

Sitting down onto the armrest of Pepper’s couch, Steve covered his eyes with his hands. “I can’t believe my soulmate is a thief.”

 

“Who wants nonalcoholic beverages?” Pepper appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of water and lemonade. She set them down on the coffee table and everyone picked out a glass of one liquid or the other.

 

“Pep, say something to make Steve feel better,” Tony said.

 

Steve felt Pepper put an arm around his shoulders, could smell her expensive perfume and feel the fabric of her sweater against his arm. He blamed it on being slightly buzzed, but the action made him feel supported, knowing that he had his friends there no matter what.

 

“Don’t worry, Stevo, I’m sure Bucky’s never killed anyone.”

 

“I haven’t!” Bucky interjected. “I was just casing the place…for a friend.”

 

Steve laughed humorously.

 

“Something tells me we should let these two talk alone,” Clint said. Steve almost ran over to hug him.

 

Thor stood up, keys in hand. “I shall drive you both to Steve’s dwelling.”

 

Steve stood once again, and grabbed Bucky’s hand against his better judgment. They followed Thor outside and got into the backseat of his Jeep once it was unlocked.

 

Steve didn’t want to let go of Bucky’s hand. And, really? What the fuck?

 

He blamed it on the fact that they were soulmates. He didn’t feel any attraction to this man, whatsoever. None. At all.

 

The car ride was nearly silent, almost painful. Thor had the radio on low and was prattling on about his own soulmate, Jane, and how they had met. Steve held Bucky’s hand and avoided his eyes, instead looking out the window.

 

They arrived at Steve’s “dwelling” (a small, two-bedroom town house), and Thor, of course, had still not notice the awkward tension.

 

“See you two lovebirds later!” he called as they approached the front door.

 

Steve fiddled with his keys for a moment, suddenly nervous to be alone with Bucky. Hours ago he had seen everything in black and white, had been happily single in a world where most of his friends had found the One. And he had been perfectly fine. But now, here he was, finding that his front door was a flaring, vibrant color that seemed to glow in the dark. He could feel Bucky’s eyes (his blue eyes) on him as he twisted the key in the lock and stepped over the threshold. Bucky followed, and they heard Thor pull away once he saw they were safely inside.

 

Steve turned on the lights.

 

For a moment, he was taken with seeing the colors of his home for the first time. He was mesmerized. He would have forgotten all about the man in the room with him, but his mind was focused on Bucky as well as the colors. Bucky who was the _reason_ for the colors.

 

Steve toed off his shoes and shed his jacket, tossing it onto a chair in his living room, the room the entrance opened in to. Motioning for Bucky to do the same, Steve wandered into his kitchen. The walls were the same color as the door.

 

“Nice place,” he heard Bucky comment from the other room.

 

Steve emerged from his kitchen empty handed and slightly angry. “Thanks,” he muttered.

 

“Look,” Bucky began (Steve could not believe this guy was his soulmate), “I know you’re like, pretty upset about the fact that we’re destined to spend the rest of our lives together, but I’m. Well, you know.”

 

Crossing his arms, Steve gave Bucky a look that told him he most definitely did not know.

 

“Stevie, I just have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

 

“Did you just call me Stevie?”

 

Bucky ignored him, and continued on, almost pleading. “I’m just as overwhelmed as you are here, you have to understand that. I think you’re pretty much hot as shit, and really cute, and your friends seem pretty cool, and colors are kind of freaking me out? But I need you to give me a chance. We’re soulmates, and I don’t know what that means yet, but it’s gotta mean something, right? You really just want to throw that all away because of my job?”

 

Steve didn’t know what to say. He was still so frustrated with, as well as attracted to the stranger. Because when it was all boiled down, that’s all he was. A stranger. But then why did Steve feel like he had known Bucky for years? Like none of his morals mattered in a situation involving him?

 

He was silent for a few long moments. “It has to mean something,” Steve repeated slowly, deciding that he loved the taste of it on his tongue. “It has to mean something.”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed out slowly, shakily, like he was about to cry. “God, Stevie…”

 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Steve asked, laughing a little as he said it. He unconsciously walked closer to Bucky, which, in the end, made a lot of sense.

 

“It’s cute,” Bucky claimed. “Like you.” And he was smiling as well. They were grinning at each other like idiots about to fall in love, like they were the only things in each other’s worlds, when Steve leaned in the kiss him.

 

It was easy, and soft, and slow, and Steve could see the colors of the fireworks behind his eyes. And it was wonderful.

 

***

 

Later that night, as the two men climbed into the Steve’s bed to stretch across the plain expanse of blank, white sheets, to rest against each other in a soft hold filled with quiet kisses, the house was loud. It was loud with color and laughter; it was dark and alive all at once. Because they had found each other at last—they were here.

 

“There’s so many,” Bucky whispered. He had pulled up a list of colors on his phone, and was scrolling through, halfheartedly glancing at the names. Steve mumbled in agreement, kissing Bucky’s shoulder. He lay behind him, arm around his waist, chest against his back. They were together, and they fit just as well.

 

“Almost as pretty as you,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s cool skin. Bucky placed his arm on top of Steve’s interlacing their fingers.

 

“Can you tell me something?” Steve asked.

 

Bucky hummed in assent.

 

“What’s your job?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Earlier you said you weren’t going to throw this away because of your job. What is it that you do exactly?”

 

“Oh. I case houses to be robbed later by my associates. I thought I already told you that.”

 

“Well, I didn’t think you were serious…”

 

“Yeah, sorry, I forgot about that stick up your butt.”

 

“You know what, Barnes?”

 

“What, Stevie?” Bucky challenged.

 

Steve rolled away from Bucky, forcing him to lie flat in the process. He then got on top of his soulmate, pinning him against the bed and tickling his sides lightly. Bucky lost his phone somewhere in the sheets during the struggle, so the room was dim once again. Only the streetlights outside illuminated their faces.

 

Bucky’s smile was about to split his face in half, his mouth open wide with laughter. After a minute Steve stopped tickling him, and leaned in close to the other man’s face. He kissed his chin dimple, then his jaw, then his neck. He left a mark above Bucky’s pulse point before moving back up to kiss his cheeks tenderly.

 

Bucky was silent, only his heavy breathing able to speak for him. Ducking closer to his lips, Steve caught Bucky’s eye. The latter leaned up to connect their mouths, just as Steve purposefully drew back. A weak noise came from the back of Bucky’s throat, followed by a low moan as Steve finally kissed him. And kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him.

 

The next morning the house was cold. Steve couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed, instead choosing to cuddle closer to Bucky and stick his cold feet against the backs of his soulmate’s knees.

 

He had only closed his eyes again for what felt like a few minutes, but opened them an hour later to his ringtone.

 

Bucky made a pitiful grumbling noise and burrowed further under the covers. After studying the colors of his bedroom in the daylight for a moment, Steve grabbed his phone off of the nightstand and clicked the green answer button.

 

“Hello,” he said, barely audible.

 

“STEVOOOOOOOO!” Clint yelled at the other end of the line.

 

“Hm,” Steve grumbled in reply.

 

“We’re going out to breakfast and you and your husband are coming!”

 

“He’s not my husband…”

 

“Might as well be! Now get your ass up. Tony and I will be there in twenty minutes.”

 

“Were you guys up all night again?”

 

“Most of us got a few hours of sleep, but I think Pete and Wade were up all night together, if you know what I mean.” Clint laughed loudly. Steve came to the conclusion that he had to be on some kind of drug to be both this awake and this impervious to a hangover that had to be similar to the one Steve had.

 

“Kay, we’ll be ready,” Steve muttered, already kicking Bucky awake.

 

“See ya!”

 

“Bye.”

 

“I won’t get up, you can’t make me,” Bucky said from underneath all the blankets.

 

“But babe. Breakfast. With my friends. My friends are really cool,” Steve reasoned.

 

Bucky huffed and turned over to face Steve, his head just peaking out from underneath the comforter. “That’s true.”

 

“Come ooooonnn, babe.” Steve pulled the covers away from Bucky. “The way you’re acting you’d think you were the one with a hangover.” Steve was up now, pulling on a shirt and jeans.

 

He heard Bucky get up. “Mmm, shut up.” He kissed the back of Steve’s neck.

 

Bucky followed his soulmate into the bathroom where they brushed their teeth side by side. Purposely bumping his elbow against Bucky’s shoulder, Steve grinned around his toothbrush. Things seemed oddly domestic as they prepared for the day together. Bucky borrowed some of Steve’s clothes and didn’t argue when Steve declared that he was paying for his breakfast. He felt so happy.

 

Clint and Tony arrived at a time relatively true to their word, and Bucky and Steve climbed into he backseat. There, they held hands.

 

“Quick, what color is my car?” Tony asked.

 

“Yellow,” Steve said, laughing a little.

 

“Which is super douchey, by the way,” Bucky chimed in.

 

“Oh, I like this one,” Tony said. “He’s not afraid to fight me like you are.”

 

“So did you two totally have sex last night? I want to know _everything_ ,” Clint said.

 

“Clint, literally, shut the fuck up.”

 

Soon enough they were pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant called Le Peep. Steve couldn’t help compare this car ride to the longer, more awkward one the night before.

 

“I love this place,” Bucky commented.

 

“Good, because this breakfast is a celebration for you two finding each other,” Tony replied.

 

Steve felt himself blush. Then he felt Bucky squeeze his hand.

 

Once inside, Tony breezed past the hostess and led the rest of them to a table full of their friends.

 

“Happy beginning of the rest of your lives together!” Peter cried, throwing his arms up into the air. “What color is this napkin?”

 

“Uh, purple?” Bucky answered.

 

“You know, I’d say it’s more of a mauve,” Pepper said.

 

“God,” Bruce complained from the right of Peter and the left of Natasha. “This place is so pretentious.”

 

Natasha whacked him on the arm.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Talk shit get hit, Banner. I fucking love this place.”

 

Bucky grinned widely at Steve. He had been telling the truth when he said he liked Steve’s friends. The pair took seats in between Bruce and Jane, who Steve quickly introduced his soulmate to.

 

Two waiters came and split their drink order in uneven halves. Their table was actually a combination of multiple tables pushed together, which had ended up happening sometime after Thor met Jane and Tony met Pepper, which was before Bruce had joined their group as well.

 

Conversation roared up once more as the waiters left. Bucky and Jane quickly began a conversation about all the shows they watch on Netflix. Steve mostly just sat and admired how pretty Bucky was.

 

“So,” Bruce began, rudely interrupting Steve’s staring, “soulmates. That’s pretty big Stevo.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What are colors like?” he asked.

 

            Steve just shook his head. “They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Impossible to describe. Fucking beautiful, though. It’s like I never knew what I was missing until I found it.” At some point Steve’s gaze had drifted back to his soulmate talking and laughing with Jane.

 

            Bruce nodded, not empathizing, but understanding.

 

            Wade had started a spitball fight with Thor, and Clint, who was leaned all the way back in his chair in order to talk to Pepper, nearly toppled over. It was really only a matter of time before the group got a warning from the manager. Sometimes they didn’t even get a warning, they just got thrown out.

 

            “Guys!” Nat snapped. “I’m really looking forward to these Nutella crepes, so if you could all pipe the fuck down before we get kicked out, that would be great.”

 

            “Nat!” Clint said. Natasha gave him a pointed look. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

 

            “Oh, my god! Come outside right now. We’re going to fight.” She was actually getting up out of her chair when Pepper demanded they all stop everything.

 

            “This is supposed to be a nice breakfast for Bucky and Steve in honor of them finding each other in Howard’s home during a quadruple dog dare at three AM. So stop.”

 

            “Well said,” Tony stated, kissing her temple.

 

            “Pepper is right,” Thor agreed. He raised his glass. “To Steve and his companion, Bucky.”

 

            The rest of the table repeated his toast and clinked glasses. Steve found himself blushing again.

 

            “Soulmates,” Bucky whispered to him as their friends resumed conversation. “It’s going to mean something.”


End file.
